Crawford avalanche. (Grayling, Mich.) 1879-19??, 1887-08-25

COlOnel LIE fuVre nuu grieVeu deeply 1Or
his daughter, and decided that their sepa-
ration should not be further continued.
On learning of their return, he coolly
carried cut his plans to obtain her.
Eugene Eggleston had placed his darling
in a home OF grandeur, suited in every way
to her exquisite taste; and just as they
were prepared TO enjoy life in genuine,
homelike, domestic manner, fancy bis sor-
row, on returning to his house, one even
ing, expecting to find an attraction therein,
his love for which all words fail to de-
scribe, 10 find, instead, the following cool
note, written In the bold hand of Colonel
lie Favre'
EUGENE EooLEsToN: Your bird has flown
Ill gotten joys cannot last. They laugh best,
vain"
Pause and behold him, dear reader, for
moment.
He had reached the pinnacle of happi-
ness only to be robbed SO cruelty of all.
He thought of the infinite bliss they had
enjoyed undisturbed for six months. lie
knew her whole heart was full of love for him
alone, and 10 be thus cruelty bereft of her
was maddening. He felt the strength and
pSGiHhniPRs pSiho Ps at Neaf uXa6fbaooa eBreYAi inlh
ture of their author. and the power and
wealth ut his co mmand to assist him in his
bold venture. The case was hopeless in the
extreme, yet he vowed to find his wife, or
at least devote his lifetime in search.
He left nothing undone in his endeavors
TO obtain some clew to their whereabouts,
but each day, each year, more strongly
proved the meaning of those words, Search
will be vain."
He lived. But o, what a sad life! He
could not remain in any one place;
he travelled continually. His grief
had so stamped itself upon his countenance
that strangers saw written therein volumes
of untold sadness. It was gnawing his very
life out. He could not apply himself to
anything. His was hopeless, ruined life.
He searched systematically Tor years, but
with fruitless results. Then the search had
become n part of his nature, and was
mechanical. This ono thought-to find her
had so absorbed his whole soul that he
was powerless TO do aught but mechanically
search. He had ceased to follow out any
course of plans or reasoning, but followed
his inclinations, which led him every
where.
Five long, dreary years passed. We find
Eugene Eggleston in Italy-a sad, changed
man. His friends rejoice that he has at
last found one pursuit which holds his at
tention. He now finds solace and COM
! fort in the occupation for which he always
had passion and natural talent-the
art of painting. 1t is not landscapes, ami
mails, or marine views to which he gives
attention, but ever the same subject-his
wife. His continual effort is 10 produce
or have produced a satisfactory portrait of
his lost darling. The desire now absorbs
his whole life. One of the large rooms OF
the suite he occupies Is filled with paint
ings; the subject in each the same, his
wife. All are productions of the most emi-
nent artists the Old World contains; but
none satisfy him. In vain these famous
artists have endeavored to suit him in the
coloring and expression.
He arises, leaves his easel in disgust,
and starts for walk AS he passes out the
door his attention is attracted by child of
extraordinary beauty, chatting gayly to her
| French nurse, in her native language.
They enter the house adjoining the one he
has lust left but not until he has obtained
n good ew of the face and eyes of that
child, which bears SO marked q resem-
blance to his lost darling that his first im-
pulse is to follow them and speak to the
child But he suddenly realizes how abb
surd such q proceeding would be, and
moves on. lie reasons with himself and
tries to throw this trivial incident from
his mind; but that sweet baby face fairly
hnunts him. He does not walk far, but
returns 10 the easel while the face is fresh
in his memory, thinking it will aid him to
approach nearer to the desired expression
OF the picture.
The next day he saw the child again.
Sho came out accompanied by lady and
gentleman evidently her parents. The
gentleman was tall and handsome and
much older than the lady, who was dressed
in deep mourning, with thick veil which
bid the face from view.
!. 10
they passed from sight; thon something
. about the ladys figure recalled an old
familiar something. he knew not what.
He felt strangely, and could think oi
I nothing but the lady and the fancied re-
semblance. Finally he banished the idea
, from his thoughts, or, at least, made NJ
} effort TO do SO; for il il should be her, wal
' not that man her husband and the chilC
theirs?
| Two living barriers to possi
bic reunion with his darling
) should it prove to be herl Far better
thought he, never to know the truth thar
I to find her thus.
0 To remain in a state of doubt was pref
Q erable, but all efforts 10 reason with him
self and dismiss the subject from his min'
s were in vain. He felt, however, that it wa
best for him mover to have revealed to hin
the identity of the lady in blnck.
He decided to leave Italy that evening
Q aud 90 direct to Paris.
lie had started down the street to max
L some arrangements toward this immediat
L change when his attention was again ut
Q tracted by the French nurse and her littl
o charge. lie could not overcome the desir
n to speak 10 the latter, and be said, in En-
glish, hardly expecting n reply in the sam
Is language, as she had the face of typico
4 French child, and spoke tho language nat
k urally, as though ii mi Int be the mother
8 tongue.
j; "Whnt is your name. little girlf"
o Looking up with childish simplicity, sh
replied, in perfect English:
q my name, sir, is Eugenie lie Favr
II Eggleston."
is Ho seized her in Lis arms, kissed he
o again and again, fondly, mndly.
|; Before no could recover himself suffici
& emily 20 try, by further questioning, I
}, positively identify her, tho nurse, believin
d him 10 be mad, took tho child in her arms
and ran from him with fear.
! He stood spellbound.
Was II only mn accidental similarity 9
j. nauoes2 Had thora been but two names